


Coming of Age

by Harpi



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29330907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harpi/pseuds/Harpi
Summary: When a Shadowdweller turns 18, they undergo a special ritual.





	Coming of Age

It didn’t feel real. Kneeling in the middle of the chamber, my body didn’t feel right. The cold stone felt like it was humming, gently flowing with power. I couldn’t see much aside from the moonlight pouring in from a hole in the roof. There was a faint pink-purple glow to the cracks in the floor. 

My Ritual had begun.

Someone struck a drum, the heavy sound nullifying the silence. Then another beat, in the opposite direction. Then off to my sides, one after the other. There was a pause before the shadows around me drummed in unison, a single strike making me flinch.   
On some unseen signal, the shadows erupted into sound. The heartbeat rhythm of the drums started off in what I could only guess as the corners before rippling outward, filling the room like the heartbeat of a massive beast. 1 2 3. 1 2 3. 1 2 3. 1 2 3. It was cold.  
“Ses,” hissed the women in the corners on the first strike,.   
“Ses,” joined the rest as the beat continued, a shadow coalescing in front of me. The cracks in the floor glowed brighter with each strike, the sound – no, the feeling -- pounding in my ribcage. Purple mist, vapourised Ichor, writhed out of the floor and wrapped around my legs as they kept chanting and drumming, the mist cold yet warm at the same time.   
“Ses,” hissed them all as the mist wrapped around my legs entirely, encasing them in the strange colour.  
“Ses,” they chanted as it creeped upward, wrapping around my torso.  
“Ses.” The chant continued as the mist wrapped around my arms, stretching them out like wings.  
The mist hissed as they changed rhythm, the first two beats stuck closer together. The shadow coalesced further.   
“Ses...” The chant continued as a secondary, much faster drumbeat on a different material, began to mingle with the first. The mist wrapped around my head, tinting everything I saw with that unnatural Pink.  
“Tiir,” Another chant began on the third beat, with a firm strike to the ground accompanying it. I felt weightless as I was lifted off of the floor.   
“Ses..tiir.” The coalescing shadow drifted over, six glowing eyes looking both at and through me. A wave of the hand silenced the drums and the voices as the mist surrounded me thinned. A rattling around the room in a similar beat replaced the drums. The shadow’s hands glowed the same colour as the mist as it held one hand over my heart and one over my forehead. A distinct crescent glowed on their wrist.   
One another signal, the drumming and chant resumed as a hissing rose from below me.  
“Sestiir...” The voices got closer as the people hiding in the shadows moved into the light, forming a circle around both of us. They all wore similar dark clothing and they all had the similar dot on their eyelids. The Ritualists.  
“Eti es tieni. mou uoumbir eri youoo e kfeub. Youoor ketif ueis efieb ouv youoo. Youoor bistiemy eweeetis. Resi, ny kfeub, emb tiei fouub ouv youoor bistiemy, sfebouwesestiir..” The Six-Eyed Shadow spoke with many voices in the Ancient Language, the language of Ichor.  
“Youoor bistiemy eweeetis,” the ring of people echoed as something below me glowed intensely, bathing the room and people in bright pink-purple. The moon seemed to glow brighter as I felt the mist around me wrapping seep into me. It wrapped around my bones and organs, melted into my muscles and attached to my very being in a rapid and strange feeling burst. I was lowered to the ground to stand over the floating platform. The Six Eyed Shadow dispelled the group and as they slunk back into the shadows, it turned its attention to me.  
“Fouub ouooti youoor fembs emb tifi ekfour weeuu vourn youoor keiki,” it informed. Following the instructions, I placed both hands over the writhing glowing liquid.  
“Kuousi youoor iyis emb kooru youoor fembs emtiou e bimtiui vesti. Tifi ekfour weeuu vourn tifi tiououu tifeti gisti netikfis youoor nemb gouby emb souoou. Tifes tiououu weeuu gi e kerti ouv youoo vroun tifes bey vourweerb. Tifes es youoor uesti kfemki tiou gek ouooti. Bou youoo weesf tiou koumtiemooi?” I didn’t need to be asked twice.  
“Yes,” I answered with a nod. I closed my eyes and held them over the writing pool of Ichor. Curling my fists into a gentle hold, I wasn’t going back.   
“Youoo weeuu viiu e stirembi fieti em youoor fembs es youoor etiin vourns. Tifes es kirviktiuy mourneu. Youkoos oum youoorsiuv emb moutifemb iusi,” the Shadow intoned as it began to walk around me, the slow drumbeat of the beginning restarting.   
Focusing on my hands as instructed, I heard faint footsteps approaching. Younger Sisters and Brothers coming to observe? I smiled to myself as my right hand began tingling, a prickly hot sensation forming. Something solid and blocky began to form, a slight crackling filling the air. The crackling drifted out either side of my hand, forming something of a sizable length. Heat wrapped around my right forearm, the prickling a strange feeling. The heat subsided with the drums as I opened my eyes.   
Raising my Ichor piece, the physical manifestation of who I was in mind, body and soul, I felt invigorated. And dizzy.   
Very dizzy.  
I blacked out as I collapsed.


End file.
